Return of Dr Irresistible

Right? Right? God, she really did sound crazy. And she’d had a plan for speaking to him on the farm, when the dust had settled after they’d all settled in. Later. In the future.

‘Take a deep breath. In through your nose,’ Reece said, his voice firm and demanding. He wanted to control everything. Even how she breathed!

‘Jolie,’ he said her name again. ‘I think you’re having a panic attack. Slow down your breathing.’

‘I’m not panic attacking.’ Was that even a term? She’d said it wrong. Everything was wrong. That’s exactly the kind of inarticulate nonsense that would make him think twice about even considering her request when she got round to making it. And probably everything she’d said and done since she’d seen him again would add to that thinking twice and thrice, and whatever fourth, fifth and sixth were... Sure, no problem, he’d hand over the reins of his birthright to someone who might be a babbling idiot.

Jolie had no proof she could even lead picnic ants in a straight line to the potato salad. She knew she could do it. Or she thought she could. She’d been so sure before he’d got here. Before she’d fallen headlong into that deep place where she stuffed all the emotions that were too hard to put words to.

It would be better if she knew it in some logical manner that came with charts and graphs. Doctors probably loved charts and graphs!

‘I can’t breathe.’ She probably had caught some awful horse-bite disease. Everything was wrong. Everything.

He let go of her wrist suddenly and grabbed her hips. Half an accelerated heartbeat later she was sitting on the counter in front of him, gasping for air and shaking all over, helpless against the onslaught of tears that swamped her vision and poured down her cheeks.

Reece cupped her cheeks, tilting her head until he had her gaze. So blue. So steady.

He said something. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, wiping away the tears as they poured down. She had no idea what he was saying, calming sounds. Comforting sounds. And they reached her. The tears slowed along with her breathing, and behind them she felt a stampede of embarrassment. And confusion. What the heck had just happened...?

‘That was a panic attack?’ her voice rasped, the raw sound causing a few aftershock hiccups.

He nodded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. Warm. Firm. Right where she’d wanted to be.

‘I’ve had some experience with them.’

It was hard to imagine anything rattling Reece like this. ‘They’re awful,’ she mumbled, drained, ashamed, and wantonly breaking rule number two.

‘Yes, they are.’

She’d stop breaking rule number two in a second, but right now she needed the hug. And with her face hidden by his chest she didn’t have to look him in the eye...

When she didn’t say anything else, he added, ‘They’re your family, and they love Gordy too. They’re not going to make any decisions while you’re getting your injury tended to.’

‘I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why... I don’t know what happened. I don’t usually act like a crazy person.’ She swiped her eyes again and pulled away, before she did something even crazier.

It had just been the shock of seeing him again for the first time. But that shock was gone, it couldn’t last forever. So it was done. She willed it to be done and she was the one in control of her emotions...not the other way around. Never again. Focus on one big emotion at a time, that was the key to remaining tethered to her sanity. And right now that one big emotion had to be concern for Gordy. He needed her. She could fall apart later.

Forget that the last time she’d been this scared she’d been sixteen and watching Reece drive away into the world alone, and remember how all the faith she’d put in him—all the worry she’d had for him—had meant nothing. In the end he had been just like her father, who, incidentally, had been good at hugging too.

She should remember all that. If Reece was going to consider her request, it wouldn’t be because he cared so much about them. She had to find another angle. ‘You should finish.’ Because she’d freaked out before they’d got to bandaging.

He nodded, looked at her longer than she was comfortable with him looking, then resumed treatment—dabbing on ointment, placing a couple of rectangles of gauze onto the wound, which he had her hold in place so he could deal with the tape.

‘Don’t worry about this. You’re just wound tight right now. We all are. I’m worried about him too.’ A couple of rips of tape later and he replaced her fingers with white cloth tape, guaranteed to hold even if she should bleed again and get the whole mess wet. ‘If it starts feeling hot or hurting more, tell me.’

‘I know. Antibiotics.’ She pretended he hadn’t said anything about worrying about Gordy. He could turn his worry on and off like a light switch or he didn’t really feel anything. Or Doctor Worry was different from the worry of mortal men who couldn’t worry and fret over loved ones while ignoring them utterly.

‘If I had my kit, I’d start you on them right now,’ he muttered, and smoothed down the last strip of tape. ‘You haven’t got any bigger, have you?’ He squinted at her in a way she could only deem as judgmental.

‘I’m big enough. Not everyone aspires to be a giant’s stunt double.’ Sarcasm: Her Refuge. Her voice-activated ten-foot pole for keeping things away, keeping things from getting to her.

‘I’m not judging. I was considering your weight for prescription purposes.’

‘Oh.’ Okay, so maybe she wasn’t totally done being crazy. But it was easier to jump to a negative conclusion than to think that he cared. He was still here to destroy her everything. Time to go. She slid off the counter on the other side of him and hurried to the door. ‘Lock it when you leave.’ Not waiting for an answer, she took the stairs at a near run.

‘Do you want some pain relievers?’ he called from behind her. She heard the question as the door swung shut but didn’t go back inside to answer him. Pain relievers? Hell, yes, she’d like some. She’d also like some amnesia pills. And she’d like him to take them too and forget the last ten minutes.

Even if the small part of her mind that was currently sane said that no one would put Gordy down without giving her time to say goodbye, she was still more than half-terrified she’d get back to the stables and find him already gone.

* * *

Reece stared at the screen door for several seconds, expecting it to open again and for Jolie to come back for some ibuprofen or something. But she didn’t.

He shook a couple of pills out, laid them on yet another paper towel and folded it around the pills so he could stick them in his pocket. Before the night was over, someone would need them. Possibly him. If he didn’t know better, he’d say that panic attacks were contagious. That he’d somehow given her the one he’d been fighting all evening.

A mess of paper towels and tape littered the counter, so he spent time tidying it up before he left. That was one thing always ground into the circus kids: keep your living area tidy. When it’s small, and on wheels, you had to be as tidy and deferential to everyone else as you could be. And you had to be okay with making things work, even if that meant taking a shower with the garden hose behind the RV because you were on a schedule and all the other showers were occupied. You learned to make the best of things. He could control the physical mess he left behind, and the only speculation he could offer to the emotional devastation he knew he’d leave in his wake? He could only hope that they could make the best of it.

It was their nature. It was her nature.

Three years age difference between them, but circus kids grew up fast. Especially Jolie. When they’d gotten her back, she’d never really been a normal little kid. Always looking over her shoulder. Always afraid something would go wrong. Children learned behavior, like worrying, and she’d learned it then and learned it well.

He’d spent the last ten years trying not to think about what she’d learned by him leaving.

He still didn’t want to think about that, even with it staring him in the face.

His worry for Jolie could cripple him. It certainly would’ve had him running back home to her that first week away at school if he’d so much as let his mother mention her name. It had been his only survival tactic. The only way for him to stay in school had been to quit Jolie cold turkey.

She might be the same size, but she’d changed in other discouraging ways. He’d probably played a part in that. Thirty minutes in her presence had dredged up more questions than just how she was going to handle him closing down the circus.

The show music had stopped a while ago, so Mom was either at her RV or the mess tent. She always liked to eat with everyone. Keightly Circus really did band together as a family, which was the hardest part of shutting it down. They ate together. Off-seasoned together. Raised their children together. The elderly performers even tended to retire to the same places...

He flipped the lock on the doorknob and stepped out, giving it a good pull. Locked up. As requested. Now to find Mom and get more information.

* * *

An hour later, having received the lecture from his mother that Reece had been dodging for a decade, he walked into the stables with two plates and bottles of water.

He found Jolie alone with Gordy, who was now utterly unconscious. A simple cot had been slid into the remaining space in Gordy’s stall and Jolie sat on it, her back to the wall and her legs dangling, eyes fixed on the small white stallion. Though by her glazed look, she wasn’t really looking at Gordy.

Reece knew only too well that you could stare right into your past if left to your own thoughts long enough. Usually at the memories you least needed to focus on. The ones you’d probably be better off forgetting entirely.

Since he’d stepped foot onto the lot, when he’d had any time alone with his thoughts, he got images of his father’s blood, muddying the sawdust and sand in the ring...

‘What are you doing? You look sick. Is the food really that bad?’ Jolie’s voice cut through his haze. Thinking too hard was contagious too...

‘It’s fine. I’m fine. Brought dinner. Thought you might be hungry and I’d like to know what the vet said.’ He nodded toward the cot—it was big enough for both of them to sit on without touching each other, provided it stood the weight. ‘You mind?’

A suspicious squint answered him, but that was better than the panic earlier. Her green eyes still had that glassy look, like emotion wasn’t too far beneath the surface. She was the first to look away, but she held up her good hand for the plate, freeing one of his so he could fish the water bottles from his pockets before he sat. ‘So?’